


Bottle, Well, or Barrel, All are Empty

by Kaiserkorresponds



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Character Study, Gen, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist is Bad at Feelings, Mentioned Gertrude Robinson, The Magnus Archives Season 2, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:02:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29454240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaiserkorresponds/pseuds/Kaiserkorresponds
Summary: Jon had never been one for alcohol. Cigarettes were enough of a vice; the acrid curling of the smoke a hazy enough pleasure to soothe even the most stubborn of his nerves.Tonight was the exception.--A character study of Jon and a glass of vodka.(Title is a lyric from "Hand Me My Shovel, I'm Going In!" by Will Wood and The Tapeworms.)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	Bottle, Well, or Barrel, All are Empty

Jon had never been one for alcohol. Cigarettes were enough of a vice; the acrid curling of the smoke a hazy enough pleasure to soothe even the most stubborn of his nerves. 

Tonight was the exception. 

He stared heavily, and a bit blearily, into the glass. It was topped up to the rim and filled with a clear, glittering liquid. 

Vodka, his slurred thoughts supplied. 

Not exactly his first choice, but it had been stashed deep under the filing boxes he had unearthed earlier. The bottle hidden under a thick coating of dust and mystery and decades worth of ancient files. 

The temptation to try it had been more due to the convenience of it than true enjoyment of the spirit. Especially with how much it had burned as he poured that first finger down his throat. But it had been available. And he had been desperate. 

The glass itself was also a relic of a previous owner, knocked back behind the plethora of mugs in the breakroom cabinets and only found because he had been scrounging for it. 

Its cleanliness had been debatable as the bottle's itself, but through the tension around his eyes and the trembling of his hands it might as well have been crystalline. 

Jon fingered the dirty glass. 

A hasty rinse in the sink had sloughed off the majority of the dust from it, but a few stubborn pieces of grime clung to it still. And the cracks radiating from a chip near the rim were freshly visible in the semi-clarity. 

He could empathize. 

His own mind felt cracked, the spidery web of fractures down his emotions a near replica of the glass. Each piece one chip closer to just shattering into pieces. Maybe one day collapsing in on itself to spill the contents of his soul– he'd always pictured it to be bourbon– onto the sticky floor. 

Even his reflection, distorted within the vodka and the warping of the glass, matched the unclean haze. The deep tone of his skin washed out and sallow and marked with the scars of his traumas. The grey streaks that marred the blackness of his curls a mirror of the streaks of stubborn dust across the glass. And the bruises under his eyes cleverly replicated the ring of stains around the cup's bottom, likely the remnants of a wine of some sort. 

Had he been any more sober, Jon might have scowled.

Instead a huff of breath punched its way out his chest, stale with days of no food and sharp with the sting of vodka. 

"Right mess this is." 

Jon stared at his own fingers curled around the tumbler. 

And in one smooth motion, he flipped it back to drain the glass. It burned like fire down his throat and landed harshly in his stomach. 

In it, he could taste a hint of smoke.

**Author's Note:**

> Ive been enjoying character studies lately !! Plz let me know if you're enjoying it too OR if you have any kind of prompt idea !! <3
> 
> And as always, if you'd like to find me on Tumblr it is @Kaiserkorresponds !!


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